


Growing

by wirewhite (cascadewaters)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Other, references to discipline, squish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 20:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4451450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cascadewaters/pseuds/wirewhite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not what he's expecting...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [always_angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_angel/gifts).



Done with the household bills, John was reviewing the department expense reports when he heard Stiles’ bedroom door open. John glanced at the clock—9:40PM—and sighed, rubbing his forehead. Stiles had better just be going to the bathroom and then straight back to bed; he knew that he wasn’t allowed out of bed otherwise without permission, as John had had to remind him, painfully, three times a couple of weeks ago. Stiles thought that an 8PM bedtime was John’s way of torturing him, but really, John was hoping that it would force the boy’s body back into a sleep pattern, and force Stiles to stay put when he was told to stay put (and rest, rest would be good.) Since those incidents (two of which had happened in one night—the first, as Stiles tried to leave the house, just John’s hand on Stiles’ denimed butt while they stood in the entryway; the second, less than half an hour later by the open window, John’s hand and a taste of spatula on bare skin over John’s knee in Stiles’ bedroom; the boy had worn himself out crying and had all but fallen asleep hugging John’s arm while his father rubbed his back and reminded him that he was loved and wanted and protected and worthy of all three,) the boy had seemed to calm down some and stop fighting the constrictions. John had almost started to relax.

 

Almost.

 

“Dad?”

 

At the sounds of bare feet on floorboards and a distressed young voice, John stood up and walked to the archway between the dining room, where he was working, ready to find the energy to warm his kid’s behind again if he had do. But Stiles, his eyes dull and frightened, just kept calling for his dad, even as he walked toward John. 

 

“Heyyyyyy,” John said gently, his concern outweighing his uncertainty that he would be able to tell if Stiles was pretending. The teen looked so scared and fretful, and still called for John even as his father cradled the young face in both hands. The pale cheeks were a bit clammy, the short hair damp with sweat. John tried gently to get his boy to focus, to wake up and realize that his dad was right there in front of him.

 

He was finally rewarded with a small spark of awareness in the big eyes. “Dad?” Stiles sounded hopeful, and slowly raised his hands to touch his father’s wrists, anchoring himself physically. “Dad!” The relief was palpable, and Stiles leaned forward and wrapped his thin arms around his dad’s shoulders, holding on tight and burying his face against the man. “You’re here.”

 

“Of course I’m here, baby boy. Dad’s right here, yeah, Dad’s gotcha.” John kissed the sweaty head, then laid his cheek against Stiles’ hair and held tight to the quivering body. Clearly, Stiles had actually been to sleep early and had had some sort of dream that hadn’t gone well for John. “Nooooot a dream now, kiddo. Dad’s right here with you,” he murmured reassuringly, and then concentrated on breathing deeply and slowly, hoping to subconsciously influence his son to follow suit.

 

Quiet minutes later, Stiles was breathing regularly, falling asleep on his feet. John knew that he should send his boy back to bed and return to his budgeting responsibilities… but he didn’t want to leave Stiles now. The choice took only a moment, followed by a staunch decision not to regret the choice. Without a backward glance at the piles of work on the table, the sheriff changed his hold and scooped up his boy to cradle, murmured to him to stick out an elbow and catch the light switch, and toted him upstairs, the two working as a team to secure their home as they went. As he laid his child in the narrow bed with the rumpled sheets that smelled of boy, John mused that they really made a pretty good team these days. As he turned out the bedroom light and then slipped into the bed with the snoozing teen, the man found that he was glad that they were growing into each other.


End file.
